


Princess Julia of Ridirlind

by Jude101



Category: Original Work
Genre: Affairs, Aggression, Arranged Marriage, Crying, Depressing, Depression, England (Country), F/M, Kings & Queens, One Shot, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Pain, Passive-aggression, Princes & Princesses, Publicity, Royalty, Sad Ending, United Kingdom, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude101/pseuds/Jude101
Summary: One Chapter Story. Young Julia fell into an early romance with a prince in which she hadn't expected the outcome. Maybe the biggest mistake of her life. Behind the scenes the supposed loving couple to the media, had been an abusive one.





	Princess Julia of Ridirlind

**Author's Note:**

> One chapter story, however, if you want me to make it longer just put that in the comments. Also, if you have any suggestions for future chapters, I am fully open to them.

She was fed up with his tomfoolery. Was she simply supposed to let him do whatever he wanting just because they were married? Certainly not. She desperately needed to tell him how she felt about everything. How she knew what he had been doing behind her back and how it hurt her just knowing everything. Yet, every word that pours out of her mouth made her throat itch and burn harshly as if sandpaper was roughly being dragged up and down her esophagus. It hurt how he didn't care, he didn't care. He screamed, it was vile how he thought that what he was doing was alright. The entitled prince's attitude was tiring, he didn't want to recognize how it had all been breaking her down. His family had no intention of caring, it was law to them and the face of the kingdom at stake. However, for young Julia, it was her health at stake. Her mind, her body, and her pure existence. 

"Francis, please! Listen to me! for the past few years I have begged for this. For you to just open your ears, for you to listen and understand. I'm not happy. I need some relief, I need you to be there for me. I have no one, Francis. I beg of you!" Julia cried, her hands holding onto his blazer. Acidic tears burning her once white eyes into red. Her red lips were now glistening from saliva. Dirty blonde hair strands stick onto her wet flaring cheeks. To him, she was an appalling creature. For once she couldn't even hold composure as she did to the public. It was frustrating to have such a supple woman at his feet. Her sobbing was insipid and irritating, the way she simply begged for help was as if a pig in a slaughterhouse. Francis pulled away, however her grasp on his jacket was strong. He pulled again, scoffing at her. It was suffocating being with that woman. "Please." She silently pleaded and for the final time, he tugged harder as she fell to the ground. Her pale knees hitting the ground harshly, now getting carpet burn on delicate legs. 

"You disgust me, you know? I seriously cannot stand it. All you do is complain and complain, it's utterly annoying to even be near you every day! What is your problem? We can never have fun together. When we go out, you either always embarrass me or become the blandest person on this earth!" He said exasperatingly, a usually clean Irish accent fell thick and sloppy. Francis' hands fall to his side harshly as fists form. His hands are now white globes, that if he can say they would be bleeding from the pressure. Short nails dug into rough hands. Naturally pink cheeks now spread across his face, heavy eyebrows are angrily arched. He smooths his hair back as he sighs and closes his icy blue eyes. A deep breath and everything is silent. Far too silent, horribly silent. The fireplace seemed to be still, the inferno that was the small library. The red of the fire before them glimmered throughout the room. The slim woman still on the ground, sniffling lightly. Tears still gently streaming down her young radiant face uncontrollably. "I don't want this. I don't want you." He wiped away invisible wrinkles off of his black designer blazer and walked away as if nothing happened. As if the cries of help were nothing, the love she craved was nothing.  
A mess was left on the ground. Her hair that was expertly made by her maids was now a sloppy bun that was on the verge to fall apart. The fire crackled loudly now that the tension was free, yet over it was the sound of a panic attack. The princesses breathing was erratic and quick. Something uncontrollable, the saliva in her mouth and throat making her struggle to breathe and catch a good breath. Sickly moans and sobs came from her, she screamed and screamed until she felt as if her throat was going to rip apart. Her vocal cords were strained and the shouting became raspy and soundless. Like a ghost. Julias manicured nails were now broken from grasping and scratching the carpet. It hurt, everything. Her nails, her throat, her lips, her legs, her arms, her head. 

"Your highness?" A light voice came from the dark entrance. It was Madelaine, one of the princess's main quarter maids. Her small heels clicked along the large brown carpet over to the spent woman. She knelt to look at her better, a gentle hand was placed on the clothed arm of Julia. "Your highness, I believe it's time to go to bed." Madelaine took her arm and helped her stand up, each step Julia took was drunk. Walking around the couch was a challenge but thanks to the butler waiting beside the door outside, she was brought to bed.

"Do you think really he doesn't want me?" She asks in the smallest voice as her maid removed her dress and replacing it with a light blue sleeping gown. The voice came out hoarse as if she had been sick for weeks on end. It was saddening to hear, Madelaine hadn't completely known what had been going on but she knew it was eating her inside out. Her eyes were darker, a light blueish color became a boring grey in the dim bedroom. Purple eyebags were large and droopy puppy eyes were persistent. Julia wanted to cry, scream, have a whole blown-out tantrum. Break things, and destroy the room. Rip off that disgusting old wallpaper with flowers adorning them. 

"Of course not. It was the heat of the moment. Now, let us get you to bed. You must be exhausted. I'll grab you some tea before you slumber though." The answer had no true meaning, however, it was enough for Julia to calm down. At least someone believed it was real. Tears have dried out now, leaving crusty lines. A solemn walk to the overly large and empty bathroom. The moon shining through thin white curtains and the silence of the night. 

She looked at herself in the mirror, all she saw was exhaustion. Exhaustion from the constant fight, the royal family, the public, everything. It was absolutely draining. Julia rubbed her eyes, maybe hoping that it would all dissapear once she opened them back up. However all that appeared in front of her was a white ghost. A drowned one. And for another day she repeated to herself.

"I am Princess Julia of Ridirlind and I will not let my people down. I am strong, I am beautiful, I am everything to everyone outside of this palace. I am prayed for. I am loved by God." She said gently, a small pep talk to calm her nerves. Nonetheless, everytime she heard that voice of hers saying that every night, she wouldn't believe it. Julia would hear it from her adoring people and yet with the hold of the devil, it would fall on deaf ears. Relief of some sort and still way too much to even listen to. No one was there. But everyone was there too. A peculiar limbo that she was stuck in. Julia despised it. 

Then Julia heard clinking of silverwear in her bedroom, assuming it was Madelaine placing the tea on her bedside table. She took a deep breath in and walked out to the dark bedroom. Tomorrow would be another day, another chance for something better.


End file.
